


XXXmas: A Very Gabeli Christmas

by MamaZoom



Series: Raise Hell [3]
Category: Blue Song - Mint Royale (Music Video), The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal, Banter, Cock Warming, Coming Untouched, Disordered Eating, Exhibitionism, Gabe rides Eli's dick in this one y'all, Gabe's POV, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral, Public Masturbation, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Safewords, Sex Toys, Spanking, a lot is going on, a wiff of angst, and the use there of, blame katey for that one, come used as other things, did you ask santa for porn?, first of all congrats on getting what you want, fucking at rich people's houses, fucking on tables, hints of - Freeform, just all the bantz, just come everywhere, just kidding it's only one house, like hella, mentions of - Freeform, nothing too bad, secondly stop harassing mall santas, seriously, sorta - Freeform, there's also some fluff, they mention choking but don't do it, this is just pornography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaZoom/pseuds/MamaZoom
Summary: Happy Holidays, y'all! I bring not only tiding of cheer and all that, but also 13,200 words of pure smut mixed in with some fluff.Set in 2014. They're married. They're going up to Gabe's parent's estate while they're away on vacation. And they're gonna have very kinky sex all over the house. That's it. That's the whole plot.There //are// hints as to where they're at relationship wise at this point in time. How far they've come. How far they haven't. I know I haven't posted the last chapter of Raise Hell yet, but it's coming! I just wanted to do something special for y'all this Christmas. (Also, there's a scene in here in honor of kateyboosh's birthday. She's also to blame for how much fluff made it into this fic. Thanks for cheering me through the writing process, babe! You're a gem. <3)PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. There's nothing too bad in here, but if you think you'll have a hard time with any of them (especially mentions of disordered eating), then please be forewarned.Happy Holidays, y'all!!
Relationships: Gabe/Eli
Series: Raise Hell [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/69481
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	XXXmas: A Very Gabeli Christmas

He’s bouncing his leg, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he waits for the next buzz of the vibrator to hit him. It won’t, because I’m holding off, yeah? I slid the plug into him this morning after a vicious tonguing, and have only buzzed him twice so far. Once while we were walking to my car in the garage, and once when we were 15 minutes into our trip. That was 40 minutes ago, mind. 

I hear him huff a sigh and a little thrill fizzes up my spine. We discussed this a week ago--he left the plans up to me, which almost feels like when we first got together. All he knows is we’re going to my parent’s estate while they’re on holiday in Barbados. Feeling the tension rolling off him, I reach for his hand without looking. I feel him jump before entwining my fingers with his. 

“Eli, darlin’, chill,” I breathe, squeezing his hand, “I’ve got ya, yeah?” 

“Yes, right, sorry.” Eli stammers, clearing his throat. He lets go of my hand to fumble his cigarette packet from his coat pocket. I wait until he lights it and takes a drag before I hit the button on the plug’s remote, dialing it up from low to medium at the groan Eli lets out. I catch him wriggling in his seat, trying to force the plug against his prostate and my cock twitches hard in my jeans.

I toss a quick glance to my left, catch his eyebrows puckered as his head rests on the seat. I give myself a little squeeze through my jeans and dial the vibes back down to low. Plucking the cigarette from where his hand is resting on the centre console, I swallow thickly and say, “Tell me ‘bout it?”, before taking a drag. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, then says louder, “It’s, uhm, almost deep enough. Suppose you did that on purpose, eh? But uhm, Christ, still feels good.” 

I smirk as we pull onto the private road leading to the estate, my stomach giving a small, happy flip as I turn off both the plug and the car. Licking my suddenly dry lips, I turn to Eli and say, “I want you to strip down.” He shivers, “Not a stitch, yeah? G’on.”

He shoots me a slightly panicked look. “You trust me?” I ask. He nods. “Safe word?” 

He clears his throat, “Satsuma.”   
  
“Good. G’on.”

He nods again, and I watch his fingers tremble as he fumbles his door open. I try to get my breathing under control as I watch him undress next to the car--nearly manage it, too, until I notice him folding his clothes neatly (I only ever had to request he do that once and he’s been doin’ it ever since, fuck), and I have to focus all my concentration on finishing the cigarette instead. 

He slides back into the car completely naked and lays his clothes in the backseat. I turn the engine over and continue driving. He has an exhibitionist streak--I know that from both experience and reading about his different fantasies in his journal. I can smell the musk of him enough to know his cock is probably steadily leaking from being so exposed in public. What he doesn’t know is that this road is only ever used by my family and their staff--all of whom are gone for the next ten days. 

He’s safe. Not gonna get arrested, not gonna be seen by anyone but me. 

I turn the dial up to medium again. 

He hisses a breath in through his teeth and I can’t help the smirk that curls my lips. I walk him through it as I keep the car trundling down the road. “Touch yourself, Eli. Slowly. Yeah, like that. Cup your balls. Yeah, darlin’. Slower.”

A third of the way there now. He’s biting his lip, trying not to show how affected he is. He’s been doing that lately, and I hate it. Makes me feel like we’re moving backwards, like the shame of enjoying this is creeping back in. And, selfishly, I just like hearing all them beautiful noises he makes when he’s lost in pleasure. 

I turn the dial up to high. 

He gasps like he’s been pushed into an icy lake. My smirk widens, I can’t help it. “G’on, Eli. Little faster now. There ya go, darlin’, there ya go.” 

He’s panting now--it’s soft, but I can still hear it. My stomach does another little leap--like a jimmyflip. We’re a little over halfway there now. I tell him to speed up a little more, and just when he’s really getting into it, I make him slow down again. He whines low in his throat, but he obeys. My cock twitches again, pants sticking to the head. I have to bite the inside of my cheek for a moment before praising him with a hoarse voice. 

I want him so terribly I feel like it might split my bones in half. Fuck. Three fourths of the way there. I gradually turn the vibrations down and then off, and I can see Eli rocking in the corner of my vision, trying to force the plug deeper inside of him. I can tell by how he’s moving that he’s frustratingly close--his body a collection of loose joints and stiff muscles. 

I wet my dry lips and pull into the mouth of the driveway. The estate is on an acreage, the drive is ridiculously long. My plan was originally to bring him inside and have him on the nearest sturdy surface. 

I want him now. 

I don’t bother with cutting the engine, or even shutting my door before walking to his side to usher him out of the car. He needs barely any cajoling before he’s on all fours with his knees spread wide on my parent’s front lawn. I kept the lube in the car door, make quick work of slicking myself up before rocking the plug out of him and sliding slowly in. 

The tight heat of him is incredible--it always is. The way his body grips me nearly makes me go cross eyed every time we fuck. I bend to mouth at his shoulder, rocking my hips against him. The grass is cold, seeping through my jeans. I can only imagine what it feels like on Eli’s bare knees. I’m fucking him for all I’m worth, wanting to make him come quickly so he’s not naked in the cold for longer than strictly necessary. 

He’s moaning openly beneath me and I have to bite the inside of my cheek again to keep from falling apart at the sound. I pull back so there’s a bit of room between us and when I stop gripping his right hip, there are ghosts of my fingertips on his skin that rapidly turn red. “Fuck, Eli,” I groan, pulling my hand back before bringing my palm down hard on the slight swell of his arse, enjoying the way it wobbles. 

Eli cries out and comes, my name constricted in his throat. I’m still hard, but fuck it, I’m cold so that means Eli has to be freezing, so I pull out and help him up and back into the car--scooping the discarded plug off the lawn as we go. The heat is still blasting as I drive him up to the house and I know the heat will already be on when we get inside, so once I park, I walk to the door and unlock it so he only has to be in the cold long enough to walk in. 

Wrapping him in one of the cashmere throws from the shelf in the foyer, I leave him huddled on the chaise lounge in the entry to unpack our luggage, each step a herculean fuckin’ task. 

As soon as I drop our bags in the foyer and shut the door, he’s on me, kissing me deeply as he palms me through my jeans. Christ. When he gets like this, it’s like a storm. Like my skin rumbles with thunder and every point of contact between us is a lightning strike. He drops to his knees and instead of going straight for my dick, he lifts the hem of my shirt with his thumbs and nuzzles at my stomach, mouthing over it. I run my fingers through his hair, tugging gently at his curls before cupping the back of his head in my palm. With my other hand, I carefully undo my jeans and pull my cock out, trying not to disturb him. He’s kissing my skin so hungrily. I have to breathe steadily through my nose for a count of three to get a grip on myself. 

I let him carry on for a moment before tightening my fingers in his hair, pulling him back just far enough to trace the loose curve of his upper lip with the head of my prick. His tongue chases it immediately, and for a second, I toy with the thought of holding him there just out of reach while I touch myself before scrapping that idea, shoving the head of my cock into his mouth. He starts sucking at the same moment he decides to swirl his tongue and I hiss a breath through my teeth. My hips flex involuntarily and I know I could fuck his mouth easily, but I relax and let him take his time, resting my back and head against the door behind me. 

He’s lost to it already, I can tell. His eyes are softly closed and he’s making small humming noises in the back of his throat. I’m not gonna last for very long--he’s got his hands gripping my thighs, resting there as he takes all of me, his movements slow and controlled. He’s still not completely confident in his ability to deepthroat, but his gob is absolutely massive and once I explained how to open his throat...he’s done well, to say the least. 

Watching him like this makes my vision swim. He’s in his element--so focused on pleasing me he’s not worried about anything else and Christ, it’s beautiful. I cup his cheek, pressing my thumb lightly against the corner of his mouth. He opens wider to take my thumb as well, looking up at me with unfocused eyes and that’s it. I come with a broken moan, panting hard as he continues to suck until there isn’t a trace of my come in his mouth. 

  
  
  
  


Thirty minutes later, I’m picking blades of grass off the plug--pulling the bullet from it to let it soak in a sink full of soapy water. 

  
  
  
  
  


He’s twisting my wedding band around and around my finger. I’m not sure when this became a regular addition to our aftercare routine, but I can’t say I mind. I’m always worried, right, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I may’ve pushed him too far. Or too quickly. I’m still mad at myself for the first time I fucked him. I should have done it differently. I should have taken my time. I didn’t know for a fact that he’d never had anything up him, but it doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure that one out. 

He yawns wetly against my neck, spinning my ring a bit faster, then a bit slower. 

Few months back, he wrote about how he has these nightmares. They’re dead simple, but they affect him all the same. In the dreams, he wakes up to find that I ain’t there. Not that I left, but that our relationship never happened at all. It’s some terrible universe where Jen left but was never pregnant, and I was just some dream he had, and he’s alone. 

Told me on those mornings, he wakes up in a cold sweat, gets his breathing under control, and then he cuddles up closer to me, falling asleep with his fingertips against my ring. 

Just making sure I’m real. We’re real. 

It’s soothing to me, too, though. Knowing he’s relieved that I’m still here means I probably did pretty well in our scene. 

He stops spinning my ring and starts snoring. I’ll let him doze for a few minutes before lunch. I have many plans for what we can get up to in this big, empty house. But we’ve got all the time in the world. 

  
  
  
  
  


He’s still naked, covered only by the blanket he’s wrapped in. That was one of the things we’d discussed before our trip, that he would be naked from the time we got here until we left. Of course, I let my plan with the private road remain a surprise until it happened. 

I make him a turkey sandwich and set it on the table in front of him, kissing the top of his head as I move to sit next to him. “You aren’t eating?” He questions. 

I shake my head, “I ate while you were sleeping.” 

That’s a lie. He knows my appetite goes MIA in the winter months, which is why he asked. I’ll eat more at dinner than I usually do, try to balance it out. I run my fingers through his hair as he eats. I love playing with his hair--it’s quite thin, but the curls spring back wonderfully when I pull on them, and he practically purrs when I pet him, his eyes going all soft and half-lidded. 

He keeps shifting his eyes over at me. I know he’s wondering what’s next--what kind of kinky business I’ve got planned. I glance down. The blanket is too bunched around his lap for me to be able to tell if he’s getting hard again already. 

To be honest, I don’t know what I wanna do with him yet. I’m still mostly thinking about him trying to keep himself quiet in the car. I wanna make him moan and whine and beg…

He down the last of his sandwich--the bottom left corner--and rubs the crumbs from his fingertips onto a linen napkin. He takes his time with it, and I know he’s trying hard not to look at me, to silently ask what’s next. 

I make the decision without thinking about it, grabbing his hand as I slid off my chair. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the bedroom.”

  
  
  
  
  


His hips are propped up with the aid of all three pillows on the guest bed. The blanket he was wrapped in is now crumbled on the floor at the foot of the bed. I try not to trip on it as I climb up the bed behind him. 

I grasp his cheeks and begin to knead--he’s got such a fantastic arse. I give him a little bum massage as I try to figure out what to do. I got him in this position so I could eat him out, but now I find myself considering running a little experiment to see if I actually can make him come just from spanking him. 

I shake my head at myself and decide to stick to my original plan. Not really a plan, huh? More of an impulse, I guess. 

“Eli?” I breathe. He hums in response, pushing back against my palms. I don’t know why I phrased it as a question. Stupid, really. So instead of thinking of anything else to ask, I simply say, “I’m gonna lick you out.” He groans, making me grin before thinking, “How long you think you’re gonna last?” 

“I..I can’t come from just that.” I don’t need to see his face to know he’s blushing.    
  
“You sure?” I tease. 

“Gabe, please,” It’s not a whine and he’s not begging--more like politely demanding, which earns him a nice slap across his left cheek. 

“None of that,” I chide, bending down as I part his cheeks with my hands, fingertips digging in just outside of painful. 

I lick a ticklish path up the innermost part of his right cheek--just inside his crack--with the tip of my tongue. He makes a soft grunting noise in the back of his throat. Smiling to myself, I lick a broader stripe, deeper this time, while carefully avoiding his hole. I do this a few times in a row, finally earning a soft whine in response. 

I reward him with a firm lick directly across his rim, teasing him briefly with the tip of my tongue. He huffs and rocks back against my mouth and I pull back. 

“Eli,” my tone is a warning, “Behave, yeah?” I watch his back for any tension, trying to gauge what it is exactly that he’s doing--what it is he needs. His shoulders are bunched, fists almost but not quite fully clenched. 

He’s looking for a fight. He’d been so well behaved on the ride here, I’m sure he feels like he’s earned being a bit of a brat. I smirk to myself. I honestly don’t know which I prefer--when he’s all soft and compliant to whatever I want to do to him, or when he gets like this, pushing my buttons just to get a rise out of me. I’m not actually mad at him, obviously. Annoyed? Yeah, sometimes. But it’s part of the game--when he gets like this, we take turns upping the ante. And I win. That’s how it goes, it’s the unspoken rule. I get my way in the end, usually by giving him exactly what he wants. 

“Sorry, Gabe,” Eli breathes, just on the right side of contrite. He don’t mean it. Not fully. 

I blow over where I’ve just licked, watching him clench in response. I wait a beat, and then lower my tongue back against him, laving over his hole again and again and again…

He does whine this time, only he’s decided it’s a good idea to push his arse back into my face again--knowing that he’s only ever allowed to buck against me when he’s too delirious with pleasure to stop himself. He’s still too coherent to be pulling this shit. 

I lean back, letting go of his arse entirely. He whines again at the loss of contact. “Up. Get up. Bend yourself over the bed.”

He does as he’s told immediately, letting me know that this was what he wanted the whole time. He assumes the spanking position and I somehow manage to keep the smirk off my face until I’ve climbed off the bed and am standing behind him. 

“You know how many I’m gonna give you?” I ask in a low voice. 

He shakes his head. 

“Me either. You’re gonna count ‘em, and we’re gonna finally figure out if you can come just from me spanking you.” 

He shoots me a wild look over his shoulder--this was not a part of his plan. I bite the inside of my cheek and murmur, “Safeword?”    
  
“S-satsuma.” He stammers, turning his head so he’s fully back in position. 

“Good boy,” I praise before bringing my hand down firmly on his arse. It’s not full force--I would never start him off like that. But it’s enough to leave a light prickling in my hand when I lift it. 

“One,” he breathes, warming up to the sensation. It’s been a while since I’ve given him a good spanking, but I can tell it’s like slipping into a well worn pair of boots for him. Like he’s being supported in some gentle, familiar way. I contemplate this as I bring my hand down two more times in quick succession. 

Outside of biting, I’ve never much been into pain. Blame the biting thing purely on reading too much Anne Rice when I was a teen--think all the sexy bisexual vampires may have done something weird to my brain during a formative time or whatever. 

“Three,” there’s a little more tension in his tone now, and I know he’s fully hard before I even reach up between his legs to confirm it. It’s a light, brief touch--too serious about my little experiment to risk skewing the results by pawing at his junk. 

Two more quick ones, just a shade harder than the previous three, one to each cheek. When he counts out “Five”, it’s nearly a moan, and I know we’re heading in the right direction. 

I pause for a moment, massaging at his reddened skin before landing three quick blows, one after the other. He’s panting, the muscles of his arms shaking where he’s leaning against the side of the bed. It takes him a beat before he quietly gasps out, “Eight”. 

“You’re doing so well, Eli,” I breathe, gently running my fingertips over his arse. I know adding in some praise might be cheating--I know he does get off on that as well as the pain. But I can’t just let him take this beating in silence. “Such a good boy for me.” 

I hear him breathe a shaky “Fuck”, before attempting to clear his throat, saying “Th-thank you, Gabe”, in a small, slightly pleased voice. 

I deliver three more, slightly harder now. A broken moan falls from his mouth, his panting becoming harsher. I grin wickedly behind him. The most I’ve ever given him was fifteen at once. He didn’t come then, but he was close. I wonder for the first time exactly how many it will take. Just sixteen? Twenty? Fifty? 

“Eleven.”    
  
“So good for me, Eli.” I coo back, basking in the whine he answers with. 

Four more now. Two to each cheek. We’re at--

“Ahh, fifteen!”

\--now, thank you Eli. We’re in uncharted territory now. I massage him gently again, his skin so hot beneath my fingers. My palms are stinging a bit--tingling from fingertips to heels. I wet my lips, shuffling my weight from one foot to the other. My jeans are unbearably tight. Yet all of that is fuzzy in the peripherals. My true focus is in front of me--Eli, in stark relief against a blurred background. Crisp and in pulsating technicolor. 

Whatever happens next, I want to commit as much of this moment to memory as possible. This pause before finding out, everything so heavy with possibility. I want to be able to see this tableau any time I close my eyes. Want to conjure it up at a moment’s notice. 

“Mmm, so sexy like this, Eli,” my voice is noticeably thick and gravelly even to my own ears. It doesn’t surprise me when Eli lets out a gasping whine, arching his back slightly for me. He’s beyond words now. I give him an experimental smack--softer than the last. When he gasps out “Sixteen”, I know he’s still at least together enough to continue the count, not fully dropped. Thank god. That’s happened only once, and I’d rather avoid it. I stopped immediately when I noticed, but it took hours for him to be back to himself after…

I shake my head, trying to clear it. “Eli?”

“Yes?” It’s all drawn out, sounding gravelly himself. He almost sounds fucked out. My cock pulses at the sound of him. 

“What do you want more than anything, once you’ve come? What do you want me to do?” I ask softly. 

He’s just gone enough to answer frankly, without embarrassment. “Want you to fuck my mouth.” 

I have to close my eyes for a moment, and breathe. “Okay. If you can make it to twenty five without coming. If you don’t, you won’t get to suck me off. Understand?” 

“Y-yes.” Christ, he’s so fucked. I doubt he’ll make it past another few smacks. Which is probably fine--I’ll probably only last a couple strokes myself, judging by the way prick is leaking into my jeans. Almost feels like I’ve pissed my pants, just..stickier. I want to reach down and start wanking myself off onto his arse. Instead I whisper, “Good boy,” and bring my hand down hard against him. 

He keens, pants a labored, “Seventeen”, and it’s no sooner out of his mouth before I’m bringing my hand down three more times, watching him intently. 

We’re at twenty now, and when Eli’s not counting or moaning, he’s panting heavily, like he’s just run a marathon. I bite my lip, breath another quick bit of praise at him, and hit him three more times. 

His head is against the mattress, arse still in the air, fists balled tightly into the sheets, gripping for dear life. He’s trembling with exertion, and I’m reminded of the first time he fucked me, knowing he’s trying with everything in him to not break apart at the joints. “Twenty-three,” he gasps, and I feel my heart clenched. I keep my mouth shut--I’m not sure I’m still breathing, honestly. 

Three more. I give him three more. That’s probably cutting the deck in his favor, but I don’t care. He’s tense for the first two, but when the third connects, he all but melts against the bed, coming with a long, strangled groan. 

I stare for a long moment, amazed. He did it. He actually came from being spanked. And made it to twenty-six. Fuck, he’s incredible. All I can do is gawp at him as I watch him tiredly wriggle until he’s lying on his side, facing me, pulling at my hips. 

I don’t even try to hide the shaking in my hands as I undo my jeans and pull myself free. His eyes are unfocused as he stares up at me, licking his lips and opening his mouth. He looks completely sated and fully fucked out. My cock pulses in my hand. Shit. This should only take a second, I’m sure. 

“Christ, Eli, I’m so proud of you--oh fuck!” I hiss as his tongue snakes out to lap at my slit. I made a promise, a deal--so I take a fistful of his hair in my free hand to steady his head and slip my cock into his waiting mouth, fucking into him slowly, wanting to enjoy as much of this as I can. “You did so fucking well, Eli. Shit! Fuck, so good for me. Wonderful. Wonderful. Eli! Jesus, yes, Christ, just like that--oh, FUCK!” 

I pull at his hair involuntarily as I come, my eyes rolling back in my head when he moans softly in response, the vibrations rolling down my cock. He sucks me through it, licks me clean. It’s all I can do to keep myself from letting my legs give out. Bracing myself against the mattress with one hand while the other massages at his scalp. 

I’ll rest in a moment. First, I need to get my husband a glass of cool water, and some aloe vera gel for his arse. 

  
  
  
  
  


He eats the peanut butter slathered saltines I’ve brought for him as I gently rub the aloe into his skin. He hums around his mouthful, lying comfortably on his stomach as I care for him. 

“I’m so proud of you, Eli,” I murmur softly, “Really. That was mental.”

A warm rumbling chuckle vibrates through his chest. “Didn’t think I was gonna make it to twenty-five, honestly.”

“Did you know you could do that?” 

He shrugs with one shoulder. “I, uhm, I suspected that maybe…”

“It does get ya real worked up, spanking,” I agree, “What about your nipples?” 

“What about them?” He leans up on one elbow, watching as I cap the aloe and set it on the bedside table. 

“You think I can make you come from just playin’ with ‘em?” I cock my head at him. 

I watch as a light blush rises on his cheeks. “I...I don’t know.” 

“No suspicions?” I smirk, moving to lean against the headboard to cuddle him. He shakes his head as he rolls over, throwing an arm around my middle, tucking his head against my chest. “Does it feel as good to you as when I’m spanking you?”

“Nearly.” He confesses, nuzzling against me so that I can only just feel the scrape of his stubble through my shirt. 

“Hmm. Guess I’ll just have to work harder at it, then.”

  
  
  
  
  


The rest of the night is pretty uneventful. We make dinner together and eat in bed, cuddling until we fall asleep. 

I wake up in the middle of the night to find Eli’s fingertips against my ring. I turn and gather him into my arms, kissing his temple and whispering, “I’m here, darlin’, I’m here,” until we both fall back to sleep. 

  
  
  
  
  


He makes me cinnamon apple pancakes and I know he knows I haven’t been eating like I ought to. They’re my favorite--a surefire way to get me to eat. And so I do. I take down a whole stack as we sit on opposite ends of the table in the formal dining room--fiddling with the dials on the plug remote with my free hand. 

I smirk as I watch Eli try and fail to not rock his hips against his chair. He’s already cleared his plate, sitting there as he waits for me to finish chewing my last bite. I take my time, pushing my chair out and strolling leisurely towards him. Standing behind him, I dial the vibrations up a bit. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat and my cock swells as I watch him try not to writhe. I put my hand in his hair, massaging his scalp gently. 

I stay here a moment, just touching him--his head, his neck, down his shoulders, back and chest, just enjoying the solid warmth of him under my hands. He gives up on self control and begins moving his hips in earnest when I begin brushing my fingers over his nipples. 

“Are you…” he cuts himself off to try to bury a moan, “You gonna make me try?” 

“No,” I bend to kiss his cheek, “M’gonna fuck you hard and slow on this table.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, tipping his head back against my shoulder. I’m still bent over him, craning my neck to suck a love bite above his collarbone. 

“Get up,” I whisper, “Back down, on the table.” I stand up straight, allowing him to obey, which he does immediately. 

I watch in silent awe as he climbs up on the table top, long legs bent and spread, completely on show to me. Reaching down, I stroke myself through my jeans, tonguing the point of my canine. Fuck, he’s beautiful. Waiting patiently, the rise and fall of his stomach as he tries to steady his breathing--his cock hard and curved towards his tummy, the base of the plug visabe between his cheeks. 

I step forward, grasping him behind the knees to pull his arse off the edge of the table. “Christ, Eli. You’re so fuckin’ sexy.” I press his knees up toward his chest, keeping one hand wrapped around his shin as the other gently works to rock the plug out of him. I toss it off to the side and it thumps against the carpet. I’ll worry about it later, for now I just concentrate on running my fingertips around and around his puffy rim, watching as his breathing picks up, nearing a pant. 

“P-please,” he whines, much more agreeable and compliant after the spanking yesterday. 

“Shhh, darlin’. I’ve got ya,” I move my hands away to dig the lube out of my pocket, undoing my jeans so I can pull them down to my knees. I slick my cock and line up, rubbing the head against his hole, “Gonna make you feel so good, Eli.”

“Please, Gabe,” he’s canting his hips, rubbing himself against me. I let him carry on for a moment before bringing my free hand to his hip to steady him. He stills immediately, his breath fluttering a bit in anticipation. 

I begin breaching him slowly, practically bathing in the little huffs and whines I’m sure he’s not aware he’s making. Fully seated, I wait a moment--the tight heat of him an all consuming sensation. I circle my hips and he grunts, brows pinched in above his closed eyes. I set the pace I plan to keep us at for a while--pulling out so slowly it’s almost agony before slamming in hard. Testing the angle of my hips, looking for that spot. 

He gasps when I find it, lips parting as his mouth drops open. I smirk to myself, pausing a moment to help him wrap his legs around me before thrusting again, making sure I’m still hitting it properly. His arms are flung off to his sides, grasping at the edge of the table. I don’t fuck him like this often, but I know he loves it--slow like romance, but still rough like he sometimes needs. 

Truth be told, I love it, too. Love taking my time, love pulling these beautiful, broken noises from him. “Mmm, so good for me yesterday, Eli,” I coo, “You deserve this, darlin’.” 

He moans, the praise affecting him like I knew it would. I love praising him. Distract him with a little pleasure and he can take a compliment like a champ. I want him to know how great he is, how worthy he is of anything he wants. How he deserves to be happy and fulfilled. “Fuck, Eli, darlin’,” I bend myself over him as I continue to thrust, licking and biting over his chest. 

He moans loudly--louder than I’ve heard him in a while. I grin, nosing way up to his neck, contorting both of us uncomfortably. “My beautiful husband,” I purr, and he slams his hips up into me. I feel his cock twitch violently in response and my grin widens, “Mmm, that’s it, darlin’. Take it, it’s yours. All for you. My gorgeous husband.” 

He cries out, and I feel him spend himself hard against my stomach and chest. “That’s it, baby. Mmm, there you go. So beautiful like this.” 

“Christ, Christ,” he squirms against me, before panting “Satsuma!” 

I ease off him immediately, pull out gently. “Alright?” I question softly, rubbing at his still bent legs. 

“Yeah, s’just...fuck,” he heaves a sigh, attempting to sit up with his weak limbs, “Bit overwhelming.” 

“S’okay,” I soothe, helping him up into a sitting position. Pulling him in close, I rub at his back, helping any muscles that may’ve gone stiff while on the table. I feel him reach between us, taking my cock in his big, soft hand. “Eli…”

“Wanna,” he breathes into my neck, pulling me off with long, slow strokes, “Love you.” 

“Love you, too, ya berk.” 

  
  
  
  
  


With all our stiff appendages taken care of, I wrap him back in his blanket for a little cuddle on the sofa. He’s laying in my arms, heavy against my body. It’s a good weight, though, comforting. Though not comforting enough. I noticed a few minutes ago that he’s not spinning my ring. Has reached for it once since we moved from the dining room to the front room. I run my hands up and down his back, attempting to soothe the both of us. 

“You used your safeword,” I point out, trying to start the conversation. 

“Yeah,” he slurs, and I can tell he was just on the edge of dozing. “I told you. I was just overwhelmed is all.”

“And you’re sure your alright?” I hug him tighter to me. 

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“What?” I look down at him, but I can only see the top of his head. 

“Can...will you say it again?” His voice is soft. Small. 

“I love you,” I breathe, ruffling the hair at the crown of his head, coaxing him to look up at me. I wait until he does, eyes soft and hopeful, “I love you, Eli. I love you and if I could marry you a thousand more times, I would.”

He gazes at me for a long moment before tucking his face against my chest again. “I love you, too.” It’s watery around the edges, and I massage and scratch his scalp soothingly until he gets a grip on himself. 

I decide to take it easy on him for the rest of the night. I have plans for him in the morning. 

  
  
  
  
  


I managed to slip out of bed and prep myself in the bathroom without waking Eli. It’s easy enough, waking him. All I have to do is kiss his neck while whispering his name. His eyes crack open, and he stares blearily up at me. “Morning?” He questions and I laugh. 

“Mornin’,” I agree. “I can get you some coffee before we...start the day.” I offer. 

“Mmm,” he rubs his hand over his face, “Maybe brew it now and we can drink it when we’re done?” 

I drop a soft kiss to his mouth and head out of the room, stealing his blanket off the floor to wrap around myself as I descend the stairs. I put on the coffee and hustle back up the stairs, finding Eli more or less awake and propped up against the headboard. He’s scrolling through his phone, which he puts down once he notices me. He gives me a shy smile and asks, “What uhm...what do you have planned for us?” 

I grin at him, dropping the blanket to crawl up the bed and into his lap, straddling him. “Wanted to feel closer to you.” I murmur, leaning in for a kiss. He surprises me by being the one to deepen it, licking at my lips before slipping his tongue past them. I suck it into my mouth, humming happily as I feel his hands first grip my hips before running up my back. 

By the time we part, I’m half hard, reaching down to stroke myself slowly. He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Where’s that going, then?” 

“It ain’t goin’ anywhere,” I breathe, reaching down to to stroke him with a firm grip, “This, though…”

“Yeah?” He asks, a hand slipping to my arse, kneading gently. It doesn’t happen this way often. It was difficult when we first got together--difficult for him to last, at least. He’s had some practice, though, over the past year. He always treats it like some sort of honor--like some sort of sacrament. I’ve learned to like having something inside me--him specifically. But I don’t know I’ll ever learn to accept the look of wonderment he’s currently giving me. 

So I duck my head, letting go of my cock to pick up his hand, give his fingers a quick but thorough suck. I feel his dick twitch against my palm and I smile. “Yeah. Wanna feel you. Wanna be close to you.” 

He presses his palm to my back, pushing me forward into another kiss, more heated this time. I nip at his lower lip as I pull back, and he looks up at me with slightly dazed eyes. “How do you want…?” 

“You just sit right there. Wanna…” I stop myself, thankful it’s still too dark for him to see me blush at the thought of  _ wanna be held _ . “Want it like this.” I state simply, continuing to stroke him. He’s hard enough now, but the feel of him sliding against my palm is grounding as I steady my breath, silently forbidding myself from crying during, god forbid. 

He gives me a questioning look, his fingers drifting into my crack, meeting my slick rim. His brows shoot up towards his hairline, eyes widening. I can see a blush rising on his cheeks and I realize he probably saw mine a few moments before. I grip him at the base of his cock and maneuver us until he’s lined up, rubbing his head against me, teasing. 

“Jesus, Gabe,” he presses his forehead to my shoulder, both of his hands settling on my hips. He’ll let me do this for as long as I want--I’ve tested that in the past--still so afraid of hurting me. Which is fair, he is rather large. Almost worryingly so--his dick proportionate to his tall, broad frame. Instead of torturing him, I start sinking down, relishing in his tightening grip on my hips, the slightly stinging burn of intrusion. Christ, he’s just so thick. His cock, obviously. He’s a very smart man. 

I can feel the controlled breaths he’s taking in and out of his nose against my shoulder as I continue sinking down on him. It feels like it’s taking fucking forever, my thighs are already starting to sting a bit. I feel his thighs meet my arse and I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. I pause here, bringing my hands up to cradle his head, still resting on my shoulder. I hear him rumble a quiet groan, hands sliding to press at my lower back. 

I’m not ready to move yet. I feel so full. Another thing I may never get used to. But he seems content, for now, with my lack of movement. I turn my head, pressing a kiss to his temple, another to his ear. “You feel so good inside me, Eli,” I breathe, “Fillin’ me up.” 

He groans again, louder this time, and I chuckle under my breath. I’m caught off guard once more when he brings his hands up, gently pulling mine away as he leans back. My arms out of the way now, he brings his hands up to my head, pushing my hair away from my face. I can feel myself blush again, hotter this time, feeling weirdly exposed. “Beautiful,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss me gently before mumbling against my lips, “Please, Gabe, for the love of god--please start moving.”

I nip at him again before starting to set a slow pace, rocking against him. He sighs heavily, tipping his head back until it  _ thunks  _ against the headboard. His hands are back on my hips now, loosely holding. He’s regarding me with heavily lidded eyes as I bounce in his lap. He looks partially like he’s just trying to maintain, partially like he’s mulling something over. Finally, he grips my cock, swallowing it up in his massive hand. 

“Eli, ‘ang on. I ain’t even found my prost--fuck, Eli.” I groan as he thumbs the head. I dig my nails into his shoulder as he toys with the slit, flicks the frenulum with the pad of his thumb as he would with his tongue. My pleasure tunnel visions me, everything dimming until my focus is pinpointed on where his cock is slipping in and out of me, and my dick. 

He presses me forward with a hand to my lower back once more, and I allow myself to be pushed, tucking my nose into the crook of his neck. This changes the angle and he’s suddenly pressing firmly against that spot inside me. I gasp, rocking my hips harder, fucking back against him and then up into his fist. I bite and suck at his neck, attempting to muffle some of my whimpers. He feels so good inside me, so good gripping my dick. My thighs are well and truly burning now, but all I can focus on is the pleasure building and building and building at the base of my spine. 

“Eli,  _ shit! _ I’m...I’m close.” 

“Want you to come first,” he whispers into my ear. I shiver, clenching around him, and he groans like he’s in pain. “Please?” 

I rock harder, speeding the pace of my hips. He’s massaging the back of my neck, urging me to lift my head and when I do, he’s staring at me with such naked adoration, his face so open, I let out a choked sob, thrusting into his fist twice, and come explosively. 

I’m still floundering around in the shallow end of my orgasm when he scoops me up, stands on his knees and lays me on my back in one fluid movement. “Is...is this alright?” He questions softly, and I pull him down for a kiss. 

“Do your worst.” I grin up at him as he pulls back. He smirks back at me but says nothing, moving his head to mouth soft kisses up and down my neck, thrusting slowly into me. 

“You’re not too...sore, are you?” He asks quietly from where he’s nipping at my collarbone. 

“Nah,” I breathe, digging my fingertips into his scalp, “M’fine. Take your fill.”

He sighs against my damp skin, entwines the fingers of our hands together. It’s...romantic. There ain’t another word for it. I feel exposed, throwing my free arm over my face. This must’ve been how Eli felt yesterday--totally overwhelmed. Vulnerable. Fuck. 

I plant my foot flat against the mattress and begin meeting his thrusts in earnest. He lets out a loose sob, thrusting harder. “That’s it, Eli. Give it to me.” I moan. He nearly growls, his hips picking up pace. “That’s it. Mmm, just like that.”

He’s gone on so long that I’m half hard again. I know I can’t come just from penetration--tested that one out with an ex back when I was 20--and I  _ am  _ beginning to get sore. I just wanna watch him come undone and then go and fix a cup of coffee. Thankfully, he’s close. I can tell by how his hips are moving--his rhythm starting to falter. 

I grasp the hair at the back of his head and give it a little tug. He obeys the silent demand, lifting his head so I can watch him--face the perfect picture of bliss. Brows pinched in, lips parted. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” I say it before I can stop myself. I’m sure he’d blush if there wasn’t already a flush across his face. It spills down his neck to the top of his chest. “So beautiful. Look at you.” I breathe. My cock pulses. Well, shit. That’s gonna need taken care of. I reach down and start slowly tugging myself off--a move that does not go unnoticed by Eli, his eyes flicking down to where I’m touching myself, his own hips snapping forward. 

“Mmm, yeah. You like that, darlin’? Me touchin’ myself for you? You make me feel so good, Eli.” I hum at him, watching the crease between his brow deepen. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he breathes, and again, “Fuck!” 

I clench around him, urging him on, and suddenly he’s coming into me, hot and wet. I groan, holding the base of my dick, concentrating on the feel of him coming undone inside of me, the look on his face. 

He stays here a moment, panting harshly, mouth dropped open wide--before sliding sideways off of me, thumping heavily against the mattress. I let him recover for a moment before rolling over to straddle him, stroking myself off as I shower him with praise. 

  
  
  
  
  


The coffee is a bit burnt by the time we get to it. 

It’s hard to be annoyed about it when the pale December sun is pouring through the windows of the kitchen, behind Eli--his wild curls catching it so he looks like he has a funky halo. 

He catches me staring. 

I throw him a wink over the brim of my mug. 

  
  
  
  
  


He’s wanted to try this for so long, but I couldn’t find the time or opportunity for it with a one year old running around the house so often. 

I didn’t understand the appeal when he brought it up, if I’m being honest. From either end. I didn’t see how having my dick in his mouth--hard or soft--for hours on end could be a fantasy. Or what the appeal of having your cock in someone’s mouth without being able to fuck it is. 

Long story short, I was an idiot. 

He’s kneeling naked between my spread knees on the rug of the study. I was soft when he first took me into his mouth. Only took me a minute, though. He ain’t even sucking, he’s just...there, mouth wrapped ‘round me, eyes closed softly like he’s meditating. It’s the calmest I’ve ever seen him. 

Of course that got me hot. 

I told him we would only try it for 30 minutes, max, to start with. Didn’t want his jaw to get tired and--truth be told--me to get bored outta my gourd. But, Christ...it’s only been five minutes and I already have to keep myself from bucking into his mouth. 

How does he expect me to do this? There’s no suction, but the wet heat of him surrounding me is maddening, and  _ because  _ there isn’t any suction, my urge to thrust into his mouth is multiplied. 

“Eli,” I say quietly into the stillness of the study. The mid-afternoon light pouring in through the bay window, outlining his face in a pale gold. In the Spring and Summer, Mum grows a whole bed of lavender under that window. Now it is beginning to snow. “Check in?”

He squeezes my ankle twice. His signal for “I’m alright”. 

“Good.” I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and pick up my sketch book. I spend the next ten minutes trying to sketch the lavender bed from memory. I get pretty close before being rocked by the vibrations of a happy sigh at the back of Eli’s throat. The tip of my pencil skitters across the page, leaving a big grey mark in the middle of my drawing. 

I look down at him, finding his eyes still closed, face the picture of total bliss. Setting my sketch book back down on the table next to me, I push a few stray curls off Eli’s forehead. The physical contact doesn’t seem to register with him, so I say, “Eli,” softly but firmly. 

He hums again, his eyes slipping open slowly, unfocused as he stares up at me. He looks completely fucked out, just from having my cock in his mouth. Jesus. 

“Alright?” A double squeeze to my ankle. I check my phone. It’s been 28 minutes. Close enough. “Do you still want to-- _ fuck! _ ” I can’t finish my question before he starts sucking greedily, like he’s been waiting for this moment practically since we started. 

I wind my fingers of my other hand into his hair, tugging gently as he swirls his tongue around the head. I stop fighting the urge to thrust lasciviously against his tongue and he moans loudly. I only last a minute more, spilling down his throat with a surprised shout. 

  
  
  
  


“You did so beautifully, Eli,” I breathe, working the muscles of his thighs with my thumbs. I’ve spent the last ten minutes massaging his legs--sore from kneeling for so long. I have him laid out on the guest bed, and I’m gonna need to wash these sheets soon because they are absolutely minging. But for now, I’m giving his legs a good rub down. 

I watch him as I work. He keeps making these little appreciative sounds--little sighs and huffs--from under the arm he has thrown over his face. He’s currently half hard--still hasn’t gotten any release from when he was so worked up from sucking me off. His legs are spread a little wider than necessary for what I’m currently doing, but otherwise he’s given no sign that he’s bothered by not having gotten off yet. 

Must have really enjoyed our little scene, then.

When he gets deep enough into subspace, time seems to become weird for him. Kinda like taffy stretching. He becomes so relaxed and open and pliable like he’s happy taking whatever I give, whenever I decide to give it because he trusts me and he knows he’ll get what he needs--it’s just the only times I’ve ever seen him be truly in the moment. 

I reach for the lube with one hand, uncapping it, drizzle it into my hand to warm it between my palms. My hands glide over his thighs so much easier now that they’re slick. He parts his legs a bit more--not insistent, merely getting comfortable, his thighs melting with the release of tension. 

There’s a small twist in my guts, an itching located nowhere and everywhere all at once. I’ve had an idea, and I want to try something. Something else we’ve never had time for. He’s in that hazy between state where he’ll either go along with this game without questioning it, or he’ll get fed up and start begging in earnest before too long. 

Either way, he’s laying there so sweet and obedient, and all I can think--all I want in the world right now--is to completely fucking wreck him. 

I work my way up his thighs, higher and higher, pressing against the long, lean muscles of his smooth legs. His hips begin wiggling a bit when my fingertips brush closer to his pelvis. 

“I think you deserve a treat, don’t you, Eli? For doin’ so good?” I watch him nod, breath out a soft, ‘please’, arm still flung over his face. “I’m gonna make you come so hard you might black out. But you gotta trust me.”

“Don’t wanna try choking yet.” He mumbles. 

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, and I drop a short series of tender kisses onto his tum. “I know, darlin’. I remember. This is somethin’ different, yeah? All stuff we’ve done before, just…” I look for the right words but don’t find them before he interrupts me. 

“I trust you,” he peeks at me from under his forearm, giving me a cheeky, blissed out grin, “Do your worst.” 

I grin back, and I’m sure it looks dopey. But I don’t care. I reach out with my right hand, gripping his dick in my slick hand. His body softly undulates--the movement a favorite of mine. Whenever he finally gets some stimulation after a long while of nothing, it’s like he does a slow, languid body roll against the mattress and it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. I keep my grip firm and slow, taking my time, thumbing the head in lazy circles. 

“Eli,” my voice is in  _ that  _ tone, soft, but a command, the one I need to use in delicate situations. It works--he slides his arm away from his face and fixes his eyes on me, “I need to you to take the lube and slick up my fingers. However many you want, yeah?” 

He fumbles with the bottle, slicks the lube over my index and middle fingers. Dropping the bottle on the mattress beside his hip, he raises his arm back up and drapes it over his face again. I smirk to myself, and begin working my fingers into him. He’s still loose from this morning--had another go with the plug--and his body accepts them easily. I shift on the mattress, trying to get more comfortable between his spread legs, and my breath catches between my teeth. 

I’m still sore from the previous morning, a reminder of why I don’t frequently bottom for him. Twisting my fingers, I find that spot inside him and give it a long, firm stroke. A moan rumbles through his chest and he presses his hips down against my hand, and then up into my fist as I continue to stroke him off. I pick up the pace of both hands, babble praise at him. 

“That’s it, Eli. Beautiful. Love when you fuck yourself onto me. Mmm, there you go. Fuck, darlin’.” 

He’s close now, hips moving constantly in tandem with my hands, huffing out every breath, cheeks red from what I can see of them under his arm. His mouth is slack, his chest rising and falling rapidly. A few more strokes and he’ll be coming. 

I stop, gripping the base of his shaft, and he sucks in a breath like I’ve just poured a tub of cold water over him. His arm flails away from his face, and he blinks confusedly at me, croaking out a broken, “Gabe?”, cock twitching in my fist. 

“You’re gonna come when I allow it,” he shivers, “And when you finally do, it’s gonna feel genius. But I ain’t gonna let you come just yet, yeah?”

He nods, pressing his head back into the pillow, fists gripping the sheets in anticipation. I wait a beat and begin again, starting slowly, building the tension back up. He groans--at what, exactly, I’m not sure. I’m not doing anything special, and I can tell he’s not especially close. 

“Tell me about it,” I murmur, thumbing his head. He grits his teeth, hips bucking minutely. 

“Just...fuck, just thinking about--It feels so good, but I know you won’t--fuck, Gabe--know you won’t let me come and it’s driving me crazy,” he groans all of this out in a rush, one thought tripping over the next as his hips twitch and he grips the sheets harder. 

“That get you off? Knowing I won’t let you come yet?” 

“ _ Yes _ !” He’s gritting his teeth, chin tipped up toward the ceiling.

“Because your body is my body, yeah?” He moans brokenly and I have to take a breath, my pulse thumping wildly in my ears. Maybe it’s cheating, somehow, to use part of his vows against him like this. Then again, I’m not faring much better--remembering that night before our wedding, exchanging private vows in bed. Him telling me his heart is my heart, and the look on his face when he told me his body is my body. A memory that will hit me in my heart and groin probably until I die. 

“I get to decide when and if you come. Because this is my cock. And this is my hole.” I was going to continue listing body parts, but he’s got a white-knuckled grip on the sheets now, back bowing off the bed. I stop, gripping the base of his shaft again. Briefly I think about buying him a new cock ring, before the thought is interrupted by Eli’s frustrated cry.

“Please?” he asks weakly, crying out when I gently remove my fingers from him. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, darlin’. Just wanna taste you,” I soothe as I let go of his dick, maneuvering until I’m on my stomach between his spread legs. When I’m close enough for him to feel my breath on his skin, he spreads them wider, exposing himself to me fully. 

I reach up and grip him again--not stroking, just holding--as I lower my mouth and sweep my flattened tongue over his hole. He shivers, dick twitching in my hand. He tastes mainly of lube, but I don’t mind, tracing his rim with the point of my tongue again and again until he makes a broken noise above me, and I go back to lapping at him, varying the pace as I begin to stroke his cock. 

He’s writhing in earnest now. A while back, I asked him what his favorite thing we do--sexually--is and he said this. When I put my mouth on him, open him up slow and filthy. He confessed it while blushing furiously, and I know it’s because he views it, still, as some last great taboo. Has a hard time asking for it. Won’t, usually. And on the rare occasions he does ask, he says, “Will you kiss me...there?”, pink in the face and his eyes cast nervously away. On those nights, I lick him out until he’s shaking and begging. 

Like now--his every word a plea between panted breaths, fists in the sheets, threatening to pull them from the mattress entirely. His legs tremble on either side of my body and I take him right up to the brink before letting go of his dick, placing a tender kiss to his hole. 

He slams his hand down on the mattress, pitching a minor fit. “Now, now,” I chide, pursing my lips to blow gently over his puffy hole. He shivers violently, attempting to wiggle his hips away from me, “Who’s in charge?”

“You,” he gasps, grasping at the headboard as he spreads his legs wider, “Please? Gabe, please. Please, I need to come.”

“Shhh, shhh,” running my hands up and down his thighs soothingly, “Okay, darlin’. I’ll let you come. Calm down.” He lets out one more soft whine before settling against the sheets, waiting. 

It’s taking less time to get him worked back up now. Which is when the real fun begins. His hole keeps sucking at my knuckles at the end of each thrust. I rub hard against his prostate and he gasps loudly, cock twitching. 

I stop again, flinch in surprise when he shouts, “GABRIEL!” I say his name in response, my tone low and warning, and am met with a whining cry of, “You promised!”

“I ain’t broke that promise. Didn’t say when I’d let you come. But you will come today. Don’t worry.” 

Eli lets out a sob, head hitting the pillow heavily as he shoves his hips down into my hand, whispering a litany of the word “please” over and over. I don’t dare touch his dick. He’s so hard I know it’s verging on painful, and I’m sure all it will take is one firm stroke and the fun is over. 

So I continue fingering him, just the way he likes--the way I’ve done it when we have somewhere to be but I can’t wait until we get back to have him. Like when we needed to leave for Kat’s birthday party, but he had his hair brushed back off his forehead and was wearing the jeans I bought him and I just had to back him up against the wall and make him moan my name right then and there. 

His breath is coming sporadically, his voice ragged each time he attempts to speak-- _ fuck, Gabe, please, Christ, I need, I want, god, so close _ \--and I stop once more, pulling my fingers free as I move to lay next to him, pressing my body against him. I’m surprised when he doesn’t have another outburst, but closer to his face now, I can see the tears that have gathered in his eyes, too frustrated to even throw a tantrum. 

I kiss over his shoulder, and up his neck as I trail my hand down his thigh, careful to avoid his dick. “You’ve done so well, darlin’,” I breathe into his ear, slipping my fingers back inside him, “I’m so proud of you. Gonna let you come now, yeah?” One of his tears slides down his cheek against me, and I wipe it off my nose into his hair. “I’ve got you, baby. There you go, darlin’, let go for me.”

He’s rocking his hips in a sloppy, desperate rhythm against my hand, attempting to work my fingers deeper into himself. He whines and gasps with each exhalation, face creased as he seeks his orgasm. I watch as it breaks over him, his jaw slackening a split second before his body starts shaking, the volume of his broken, rasping groan growing as he lets go--spilling over his stomach and chest for so long I thought he’d never stop.  I keep whispering praise at him until his body melts back into the bed. Gently, I pull my fingers free of him, kiss the corner of his mouth tenderly. 

He’s out of it, eyes closed as he attempts to get his breath back. “Are you okay for me to go get you a glass of water?” I ask quietly. He nods, raising his arms in a stretch. I hear his spine crack a few times as it lengthens against the mattress. 

By the time I return, cold glass of water in hand, he’s asleep--snoring softly. 

  
  
  
  
  


The next night, I press him up against the custom window overlooking the drive. At first, when we got together, I couldn’t figure out if his exhibitionist streak was rooted in humiliation, or if he just liked the thrill of the idea of being watched. I’ve since discovered it’s probably the latter. We’ve not discussed it, really. 

All I know is that he enjoyed being in front of the window of our guest room back when it was the window of my guest room. That he thrills at the idea that we might get caught at any moment. That someone might see him naked, hard, seeking pleasure as he rocks back into me. 

He’s panting against the glass, fogging the window with every moan. I can’t help but wonder how well he remembers the first time we did this. That was such a frantic time for us--for him especially. 

He comes with a throaty moan, his release streaking the window and I’m caught between then and now--my memory playing alongside the reality of Eli arching his back to push his arse tighter against me. I thrust hard, coming deep inside him. 

When I pull out, Eli drops immediately to his knees, lapping his release off the glass. Smiling fondly, I run my fingers through his hair until he’s done. 

  
  
  
  
  


He’s a warm, comforting weight on top of me. Propped up on pillows against the headboard, his back is resting against my chest, his head on my shoulder. His cock is lolling against his hip, half hard as I run my hands over his chest. 

“You ready, Eli?” I breathe into the hair over his ear and he nods. “Want you to touch yourself, darlin’.” I watch as he reaches down and strokes himself with a firm grip. 

His pace is unhurried, pulling himself off in slow strokes, stopping to twist his foreskin up around the head, cock filling rapidly in contrast to his pace. “Hmm, slut,” I hum fondly, kissing the side of his face, “Just love bein’ watched, don’t ya?”

He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, now fully hard and beginning to more actively fuck his fist. I place my hand on his forearm--unable to reach his wrist from here--and give him a squeeze. “That’s enough of that, yeah? 

I can feel him already trying to get a grip on his breathing as he lets go of his dick, holding onto my thighs at either side of his hips as I instructed before hand. He knows what we’re doing, and the experiment is obviously exciting to him. “Ready, darlin’?” He nods, taking a deep breath. 

I trail my fingertips up his torso, teasing, and grope his tits before grazing his collarbones, up his neck. He’s getting twitchy against me, but I allow it--grinding the beginning of an erection against the sweaty, undulating skin of his lower back. “You remember the rules?” 

“Relax. Don’t touch myself. Use my safeword whenever I need it, for any reason.” He lists them back to me and I hum in wordless approval. Squeezing his tit with my left hand, I bring the fingers of my right up to his mouth, pressing them to his lower lip until he opens up for me, sucking my index and middle fingers. 

I tap his jaw with my ring and little fingers and he opens back up, allowing me to slide my fingers out of the wet heat of his mouth. I kiss him again--a little trail of pecks all down the side of his face as I ghost a damp fingertip around his nipple, tracing his areola. He’s squirming again, attempting to get me to touch his nipple properly. 

Laughing into his curls, I give him what he wants, stroking over the already risen nub of flesh with the wet tip of my index finger. He makes a small moaning sound in the back of his throat and settles against me, allowing me to play with him. I alternate from direct contact to merely brushing his nipple--bringing my left hand up to his mouth as I grope at him--almost desperately, like we’re trying to get off in the dark, close heat of a club. 

I continue toying with his tits until his nipples are fully puckered--the skin around them wrinkled from how hard they are. He’s moaning in earnest now, his hips bucking off the bed when I pinch him. It’s almost ridiculous how sensitive he is--I would be tempted to think he’s faking it. That is, if he dick weren’t twitching and leaking while I play with his tits. He’s gripping my thighs hard enough that I think I may bruise and that is just fucking beautiful. 

He’s about halfway there, I figure, but the way he’s moaning and writhing against me, I’m close to coming in my pants--the damp cotton sticking to the head where I’m also leaking. “Get up,” I whisper, tapping his ribs when he groans at me, “C’mon, wanna try somethin’.”

I press him flat against the mattress, my fingers shaking slightly as I straddle is stomach and reach for the lube. This wasn’t planned. And it’s probably selfish on my part, but Christ, what do you expect me to do when he’s so pliant and warm beneath me, whimpering and moaning as I slick the middle of his chest. I scoot up a bit, knee walking closer until my pelvis is hovering almost over his chest. My cock throbs as he tries to move to take me in his mouth, his eyes all glassy and unfocused with arousal. 

“Uh-uh,” I tug him by the hair until his head is back against the bed, “Wanna fuck your tits.” 

“Christ, Gabe,” he breathes, reaching up almost subconsciously to cup his pecs, pressing them together for me. 

“Fuck, yeah, that’s good, Eli,” my cock gives an appreciative jump at the sight laid out before me, and I slide it between his tits, “So good for me, darlin’. Gonna make you feel so good. Just as good as you make me feel. Fuck, I had to have you immediately. Had to stop just so I could fuck these sweet little tits, Christ, you’re so hot.” I’m rambling now, I know. But I can’t help it, he’s so sweet and obedient right now and it’s making me crazy--he’s squeezing his tits tighter around me at every other thrust and looking at me like I hung the moon, just for him. 

Christ, I’m so close. Reaching down, I pet his hair. It’s clumsy, more like how you’d pet a dog and less like how you’d touch a lover, but I’m bent awkwardly over him, gripping the headboard with my other hand as I thrust against him, my balls already drawing tighter and tighter. 

“Look at you, so beautiful. I couldn’t help myself, Eli. Did you know that? Did you feel me? Getting harder and harder against your back? Or were you too caught up in me playing with your nipples? Fuck. Darlin’. I’m gonna come. And you know what I’ll do? I’m gonna suck them little tits until you’re screaming my name and coming all on your thighs-- _ Fuck _ !” 

My hips stutter and I come so hard my vision fuzzes around the edges. My release spills up his throat, some of it splattering on his chin and I shiver as I watch him let go of his pec to wipe it out of his stubble and licks it off his fingers. 

I’m a blur of motion as I surge down, licking a broad stripe through my come, gathering it on my tongue before I move lower, slathering it over his left nipple as I lap filthily at it. He arches up against my mouth, making a strangled noise. I’ve given him no time to recover from what’s just happened. He’s probably approaching overstimulation, but it might work in our favor, if I want him to come from just this. 

He’s twisting under me, bucking as I lick from one nipple to the other, flicking the tip of my tongue over, and I do my best to keep our pelvises from touching, not giving him anything to grind up against. 

I suck softly at first, and then harder, and he pants like he’s in the middle of a marathon--like he’s about to be charged to breathe so he’s filling up on all the oxygen he can take in before he can be billed. I know it has to be overwhelming--his tits are the only place I’m touching him, and so the sensation is concentrated just there--just in his chest, spilling down his spine and into his groin. 

I sit back up, thumbing over his bright pink nipples, and look over my shoulder. His dick is just as livid as his chest. Just as slick, too. And his balls are drawn up quite a bit. Just a few more moments and he should come fantastically. I turn back to him, grinning wide, and bend my head back down. I suck the other nipple into my mouth, this time biting down softly, scraping my teeth across the hard nub of it and Eli whines like a tea kettle--high and keening. 

It should be enough--I thought it would be enough, but it’s not. He’s still writhing and whining but he’s still not come and in between gasping, ragged breaths he sobs a pitiful, “Gabe, I can’t. I can’t do it!” 

I know by his tone that it’s true. He’s not just trying to get his way, too impatient to wait. He sounds disappointed--in the results, in himself--and apologetic, like he’s worried I might be upset with him for this not working out. 

I lean down and kiss him, sliding sideways off his torso and pulling at his hip so we’re lying facing each other. “Shh,” I mumble against his lips. His breaths are coming in little sobbing hitches, “It’s alright, darlin’. I’ve got you. You did so well. You gave it such a good try and I’m so proud of you.” 

Bringing the arm against the mattress up, I brush the fingers of that hand over his tender nipples. The other hand I wrap around his cock, kissing him all the while. When he finally does come, just three strokes later, it’s with a shocked groan that buzzes my teeth, his release splattering my half erect cock where I neglected to tuck it back into my pants. 

  
  
  
  
  


He’s calmed quite a bit. I’ve gathered our aftercare items, and he’s had his water and a protein rich sandwich and is currently breathing his peanut butter breath against the crook of my neck. It’s difficult to see to him in this position, but I try anyway, reaching down between us to rub coconut oil into his nipples. He hisses a breath through his teeth when my fingers make contact and I hum soothingly at him before placing a warm compress over each nipple. 

He settles once the compresses are on, the rest of the tension melting away from his shoulders. He lets his head fall onto the pillow, finally allowing me to recline next to him, relaxing. Finally. I pull at him until he’s wrapped around my side, his head resting on the middle of my chest. The fear and worry he felt upon realizing he couldn’t come seems to have disappeared completely. Still, he reaches for my ring, spinning it ‘round and ‘round my finger. I sigh, dropping a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“I love you, Eli,” I breathe, my eyelids starting to droop. It’s been a long week, but I’m glad we’re going back home tomorrow. We need to recoup after all this. “You did so fucking well.”

“Di’n come,” his voice is muffled where he’s speaking into my sternum. His stubble is a bit ticklish, especially in combination with his hot breath. 

“So? You were still amazin’.” 

“Wan’d to come f’r you.” 

I wrap my arms tighter around him. I realize I’m smushing his face harder into me, which won’t make understanding him any easier, but fuck it. “You did. All over my dick, remember?” I chuckle. 

He wriggles against me until his mouth is more or less free. “That’s not...you wanted me to come from touching my…” he trails off, too embarrassed. 

“No,” I correct, “I wanted to see  _ if  _ you could come from me just touching your nipples. And you apparently can’t. That’s fine. More than fine. It was still sexy as hell. We still had fun, right?” He nods, almost sheepishly. “Good. Me too. That’s why I had to stop for a minute--couldn’t resist you any longer.”

Eli makes a dismissive noise as he stretches his legs, his lower back cracking loudly. “I’m serious! I was outta my mind! I couldn’t control myself. Felt like if I didn’t come I’d die.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he mumbles, “If we weren’t already married, I’d propose to you again. Right now.”

“You really gotta figure out a new way to tell me you love me now.” I smile, pushing his curls off his forehead. 

“I love you.” He peers up at me, adoration clear on his face. 

My smile warps into a grin as a tugging in my guts begins, deciding to play a new game. No. Not a game. Not exactly. If that’s what he mistakes it as, that’s fine. But I’m still half hard and I want desperately to be near him--my husband, Eli--to be in him, if he’ll let me. 

“Eli,” I breathe, pushing at his shoulder until he’s on his back. I’m careful to avoid his chest as much as possible as I settle over him, “Marry me.”    


“Don’t mock me,” he swats at my hip, but there’s a hint of a grin on his lips, tugging at the corners. 

“Marry me,” I murmur, dropping kisses against his neck. His cock twitches with interest against my hip, “Marry me again.” I kiss his mouth, “And again,” Grind our hips together, “And again.” 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he breathes, wrapping his arms around me, “Yes. Again. Always.” 

  
  
  
  
  


I had originally planned another scene for the drive home. But we woke up sore and exhausted and an hour late and fuck it. 

So not only is Eli fully dressed as we pull away from my parent’s estate, he’s also wrapped in my mum’s throw. It needs dry cleaned anyway. He’s a grumpy lump of fabric, the blanket wrapped around him over his coat, his toque pulled down tight over his ears. One mittened hand stuck outside of the blanket, gripping a paper cup full of hot coffee. 

I tear my eyes away from him, my heart feeling like it’s being squeezed. If he asked to actually have a second ceremony right now, I’d agree with no fight, no sarcasm. Reaching blindly, I find his knee under the blanket and rest my hand there. 

“Happy Christmas, Eli.” 

“Happy Christmas, Gabe.” I hear him yawn and then slurp at his coffee, cursing under his breath when he burns his tongue. “You get everything you wanted?” 

“More than, thank you.” I smirk, pulling out off of the private road. “What about you?” I ask softly, “Was it...alright?” 

“It was incredible. Thank you, Gabe.” He reaches for my hand under the blanket, holding it.

“I do think I’ll get ya a late Christmas present, tho. Nice set of nipple clamps.” I cut my eyes to the side, grinning at him as I chuckle. He rolls his eyes, but he’s blushing a lovely shade of pink. Something strikes me suddenly, and I jerk my hand out of his, pulling a U-turn at the first possible chance. 

“What are you doing?!” Eli squeaks, holding his cup out away from him, in case it sloshes. 

“We left your fucking plug in the dining room.” I grit through my teeth, annoyed with myself for almost having left a sexy toy at my mother’s place. 

Eli, meanwhile, cackles. 


End file.
